What It Would Be Like
by Kurai Shukujo
Summary: Aya has a strange power that enables him to see the past, present, and future of someone with just a touch and when Youji is kidnapped, Aya must put this 'gift' to good use.
1. Prologue

/Sometimes I can't help but to wonder…what would it be like…to have someone to hold, to cherish, and to love? What would it be like…to have someone that wanted to hold you, to cherish you, and to love you? Would I ever know? I seriously doubt it./  
  
=====================  
  
"What It Would Be Like"  
Series: Weiß Kreuz  
By: Shukujo Kurai  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss...x_X  
Pairing: YxR/RxY   
Rating: R  
Warnings: OOC, shounen-ai, supernatural, etc...  
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny. ¬_¬;  
  
=====================  
  
I finger the piece of paper gently, subconsciously analyzing the handwriting as I try to get inside the person's head.   
  
They're obviously lonely, that much is for certain. But what else? Why are they lonely?   
  
I don't get much of a chance to think about it as our redheaded leader stalks into the room, unhappy as per usual. I stuff the paper in my pocket and ignore him.  
  
Maybe it was Omi…but that can't be right, everyone loves the chibi. Even his sister loved him, for crying out loud.   
  
Ken? No…just about the same thing with Omi…everyone loves the dopey soccer-player. For reasons unbeknownst to me, by the way.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Aya looking around for something and suddenly I realize that he's near the same section of floor where I found the paper.  
  
My jaw drops. Aya…of all the people in the world…Aya…  
  
I stammer some excuse and run upstairs faster than I've run since childhood. I reach my room, open the door, enter, and slam it shut in one fluid movement. I lock it for good measure.  
  
Wah…What'll happen when he realizes that I'VE found his little paper? I slide down the back of the door and grab my legs to my chest.   
  
I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die…  
  
----------  
  
I know he ran up here and I hope to God that I don't know why. I silently creep up the steps and stop in front of his room as I hear what sounds like whispering.   
  
'I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die…'   
  
I let my guard down long enough to make a face. I now know where my paper went.  
"Youji! Open the door." I demand as I pound on his door.  
  
I hear a muffled 'eep' from inside.   
  
"Now, Youji." I order in a surprisingly gentle voice. For some reason, I can almost feel the fear radiating from inside Youji's mind. "Youji?" I ask, alarming myself with the amount of concern in my voice. My hand's still on the doorknob, resting gently against the cool metal.   
  
I can feel his trembling hand gripping the doorknob.  
  
Suddenly, I can feel everything he's feeling. The awesome amount of fear…the fear of betrayal, of hope, and of love. I can see a man, his immense hand raised, a frightening amount of hatred on his face. I now see a woman, lying in a pool of blood, her once bright green eyes now dull with the stillness of death, her mouth slightly open, her rosy lips turning a frozen shade of blue. The onslaught only continues. I now see a group of gangsters surrounding a little boy, they have whips, sticks and guns, they hit the boy repeatedly as they rape him brutally.   
  
I release the doorknob with a slightly audible gasp.   
  
That's why I can't love anyone.  
  
------------  
  
Suddenly I feel comforted, like I just poured my soul out to someone. I open the door to reveal a rather disturbed Fujimiya Aya. He looks up at me…strangely. Like he knows me, or some silly thing like that. His usually cold eyes looked disturbed, like he's just seen something that frightened him straight to the core.   
  
"Aya?…You okay?" I ask, my hand reaching out to touch him of its own accord.   
  
"Yeah." He murmurs and jerks away before I can even get close to him. "Nevermind." He continues as he walks away.  
  
What was that all about?   
  
===============  
  
TBC  
  
How was it? Reviews/e-mails keep me writing! ~.^ 


	2. Chapter 1

"What It Would Be Like"  
Series: Weiß Kreuz  
By: Shukujo Kurai  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss...x_X  
Pairing: YxR/RxY   
Rating: R  
Warnings: OOC, shounen-ai, supernatural, etc...  
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny. ¬_¬;  
  
====================  
  
I sit on the edge of the windowsill, leaning more than anything. I'm still trying to figure out everything that I saw earlier. Was all that from Youji's mind? I really hate this. My head hurts...  
  
I hear footsteps padding gently down the steps and my mind immediately scans through my memories to determine who's coming. Ken's out playing soccer and Omi's at school. Youji and I are taking our lunch break. The answer's obvious enough.  
  
"What do you want?" I ask before the footsteps even reach the bottom step.  
  
"Sheesh..." I hear Youji grumble, "Who pissed in your Cheerios?" He asks.  
  
I assume that he's attempting to be funny. I am not amused in the least.   
  
He gets the picture that his comment did not earn even an insult in reply. "Look...about earlier..."  
  
"Forget it." I interrupt. I don't want him to think about it. Personally, I don't even want to know, much less think about it.   
  
"But..."  
  
"I said forget it." I repeat myself, something that I'm infamous for hating to do.  
  
I can hear his soft footsteps coming up behind me. "Here..." He whispers as he hands me the piece of paper that I had written on in a moment of self-pity.   
  
I hesitantly take it, not wanting him to have it to blackmail me with later, and am sucked in once again.  
  
This time I can feel a strong sense of rejection and sadness along with images of two dead women.   
  
I can't force myself to pull away from the paper that he's still holding.  
  
I can hear a heart racing, beating in a frantic manner...almost echoing. I feel the fear that went along with the memory...the fear of being discovered. Now I can hear a booming voice, angry and apparently drunken. It's yelling at someone, telling them just how worthless they are and how much they want to hurt them.  
  
Youji pulls away just as the voice mentions something about one of the dead women...the one I saw the first time.   
  
---------------------  
  
There it is again. That comforting feeling that I've been getting around Aya lately. I grip the folded paper, not wanting to lose that feeling.  
  
I make the mistake of looking down at Aya, whose eyes are wide and haunted, his face more blank than usual.  
  
I release the paper.  
  
"You okay?" I ask, knowing that I probably won't get much of an answer, if one at all.   
  
Aya just grunts and focuses on something else.   
  
I stay where I am for a minute, just watching Aya try to clear his mind. I want to know what's going on.   
  
"Aya?" I lay my hand on his shoulder as I call his name.  
  
---------------------  
  
Just as I've almost got those images, feelings, and voices out of my mind, Youji touches me again and I go right back into the deepest bowels of his mind.   
  
This time I can feel heavy lust, almost like it's directed at me...  
  
"Stop. Touching. Me." I command as I knock his hand away.  
  
He looks at me like I've grown another head. "That's the first time I've touched you all day..."  
  
For some reason, this conversation sounds incredibly dirty to me. "Well, stop handing me things. Stop being near me. Just get the hell away from me!" I finally shout, making Youji take a cautious step backward.  
  
I'm not an idiot. I spot the opening and take it, walking quickly back down to the shop where I know that he won't dare bring this up.  
  
---------------------  
  
Well, THAT was probably THE weirdest thing that's ever happened to me...  
  
Not really...I guess growing up on the streets can show you some pretty freakish shit, but that was pretty damn freakish.   
  
It was almost like Aya was panicking. About what, I'm not sure.  
  
But Kudou Youji doesn't give up quite that easily.  
  
I follow the redhead back down to the shop. I know what he's thinking. He probably thinks that I won't bother him around people...that I'll be too busy flirting with girls to pay any attention to him.  
  
Wrong-o, Aya-baby.   
  
--------------------  
  
He's following me, that damn idiot...why can't he just leave me the hell alone?  
  
I slip my apron over my head and go about my business, doing my best to ignore Youji, who keeps staring at me.   
  
A few people flit around the shop, talking amongst themselves. I ignore them, as per usual.   
  
After a woman decides to buy a bunch of chrysanthemums, I walk over with her to ring up her order and I can feel Youji's eyes watching my every move. She's chattering about how her late son was born in October and how chrysanthemums are October's flower.  
  
As if _I_, a florist, didn't know that already.  
  
She asks what this month's flower is and I dully point to a vase nearby. She frowns and asks what they are.  
  
"Pear blossoms." I reply, waiting for her to drop the proper amount of yen onto the counter.   
  
She looks at me like I'm insane. I'm really starting to hate that look. She then proceeds to shove the money into my hand, unknowingly giving me a glimpse of her life.  
  
Images of a robbery come blasting into my mind. It's a quaint little store that sold knickknacks, maybe where her son worked. She's chatting pleasantly with the young clerk, a boy about Ken's age, when a masked man comes in, waving his gun all about. Sometime, during the confusion and ducking patrons, the clerk goes for the gun. I can hear the gunshot resound in the air and her scream as she crawls over to the boy, screaming his name as she tries to put pressure on the chest wound. The robber grabs the open cash drawer, empties it, and flees, only getting away with about 75 American dollars.   
  
"Excuse me?" She asks as she releases the yen into my hand, waiting for her change.   
  
"Gomen..." I whisper and hand her the change.   
  
I'm at a funeral this time. A young girl with pigtails, covered in dirt and grime, comes up to the open coffin with a single poppy in her hands. She places it gently on his chest, directly over the covered wound. The mother starts to cry and the little girl goes over to her, whispering something in her crude English. /In the flower, forever, he will live on./  
  
The woman starts to gather her things and I ask her to wait a second before striding into the back room. I really don't know why I'm doing this...maybe because I sort of identify with her. 'Aya-chan...'  
  
I come back out and hand her a single red poppy that I've cut exactly like the one in her memory.   
  
She looks at me with apparent wonder, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "How?" She finally stammers out, her hands clutching the bouquet and the poppy.   
  
I shake my head, not wanting to convey the fact that I don't know.   
  
"I had almost forgotten about her...Today is the anniversary of my son's death. Did you know him?" She asks, her teary eyes glimmering up at me.   
  
"I remember reading about it." I murmur the innocent lie. It sounds so much better than telling her that I saw it in her mind when she handed me the money for the bouquet.   
  
She gently touches my arm and back into her mind I go. I can't tell you how annoying and inconvenient this is...  
  
I see her leaving the Koneko, her face turned toward the bouquet, not watching the street that she is crossing. A man driving an 18-wheeler slams on his brakes, locking the wheels and unable to stop from slamming into her.  
  
"Let me walk you to your car." I offer quickly, before she can get more than a few steps away.   
  
She looks back at me and smiles before nodding her head.  
  
We walk out and she's doing the exact same thing, burying her face in her flowers as she remembers her son.   
  
"Watch out." I warn as she almost steps out in front of the 18-wheeler; my arm extending of its own accord to halt her.   
  
The driver seems slightly angry that she wasn't watching where she was going, but I can tell that he's glad that I was there to stop her.   
  
"Oh...gomen nasai..." She whispers, amazed at what just transpired in the last few seconds. "Doumo arigatou..."  
  
I nod as a man comes running up to us. "Oh Kami-sama...Are you okay, dear?"  
  
She tells him that she's fine, she just wasn't paying attention.   
  
"I'll drive." He ushers her to the passenger's seat and pauses to speak with me. "It's the first anniversary of our son's death...you'll have to excuse her."  
  
I nod.  
  
"Thank you for watching out for her...I don't think I could stand losing her as well." He bows and gets into the driver's seat, waving before he pulls away.  
  
I sigh and walk back into the Koneko where Youji's waiting for me, an expectant look on his face.  
  
=========================  
  
TBC  
  
Hope you enjoyed chapter one! Be sure to tell me what you think by either reviewing or emailing me.  
  
~ Kurai 


	3. Chapter 2

"What It Would Be Like" (chapter 2)  
Series: Weiß Kreuz  
By: Shukujo Kurai  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss...x_X   
Pairing: YxR/RxY   
Rating: R  
Warnings: OOC, shounen-ai, supernatural, child abuse, rape, etc...  
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny. ¬_¬; I know you've been wondering how Aya got these strange abilities...I've already got it figured out, but I'm not sure where I'll bring that in. ^.^;; Until next time, minna-sama.  
  
=================  
  
So what exactly WAS that? I ask myself as I lean against the doorway, crossing my arms as I watch my teammate closely.   
  
Aya's been acting strange lately...well, stranger than usual, I mean. More...distant, yet so much more empathetic, if that makes any sense. It's like he's far away from the rest of us, maybe somewhere where he can feel everything around him.   
  
Yep, it's official. I've finally lost it.  
  
I shake my head and turn to the girl tugging on my sleeve.   
  
---------------  
  
I let out a inaudible sigh of relief as I see Youji head back inside. Maybe he won't think anything of it. Maybe he'll forget about it. Maybe he just thinks that I'm losing my mind. That wouldn't be too far from the truth...  
  
---------------  
  
After I finish helping the first girl, another comes up, then a group of them, then more join the sea of squealing fangirls. I feel sick.   
  
A young foreign girl holds up a bunch of daisies, rare for our shop, and I can't help but to give in to the memories.  
  
//"Youji, Youji!" A singsongy voice calls out as a beautiful woman with naturally curly orange hair steps into view. She's wearing a hunter green dress that fits her wonderfully with wooden sandals that don't even sink into the wet ground. She's small for her height...underweight. She presents me with a bouquet of daisies that she had just finished picking from the park where we're at.   
  
A young boy with light brown hair, fair skin, and green eyes runs up to her. Me as a little kid...before...HIM. "Mama!" I squeal happily as she kneels down to hug me, her soft hair tickling my face.  
  
"See these?" She asks, motioning to the daisies. "In America, they symbolize peace, love, and happiness." She always was a holdover hippie from the States.   
  
I laugh softly as she tickles my nose with a daisy.   
  
Foot steps come up from behind and I hear my mother arguing with the man she calls my father.   
Though I'm still young, I can understand what's going on. She's fighting to protect me.   
  
I duck behind a nearby bench, being too little to be of any assistance to my mother.  
  
The shorter man fakes a punch to her face, moving instead to hit her in the stomach, making her double over. She gasps for air as she struggles to stand up.  
  
He kicks her back down. He may be shorter, but she's malnourished while he's strong and stocky...believe me, I know. A few blows to the kidneys and head have her down and spitting blood.   
Suddenly she grows still. "Mama!!" I yell, leaving the safety of my wooden shelter in order to see my mama one last time. I may have only been six, but I knew that she was about to die.   
  
My father spots me, but doesn't pay much attention. He just walks away like nothing's happened.   
  
"Yo...ji..." She manages to get out, making my attention revert back to her.   
  
"Mama, don't die, please don't die!" Autumn leaves fall all around us, her blood turning the orange leaves a sinister red.   
  
"...love...again..."   
  
I blink back tears as the words leave her mouth, not making any sense to me whatsoever.   
  
She stills once more, the little bit of sparkle that was left in her eyes is now gone.   
  
I shriek in terror. She was the only person who ever protected me...and now she's gone.  
  
Night comes and still no people walk to this side of the park. I think maybe it's destiny, forcing me to die slowly of hypothermia. It's what Mama would call November time and it starts to snow lightly.   
  
I sniffle and cuddle closer to the rapidly cooling body of my beautiful mother.//  
  
I shake my head and push my way through the swarm of girls. I've got to get out of here. I run past them, past Aya and straight to the bathroom where I immediately head to the toilet and start to throw up.  
  
//"Youji?!" Someone yells, one coming from my right and one from above.  
  
"Sarah?!" Same voices, same directions.  
  
My head raises, my lips blue from the cold. "Help me!" I choke out hoarsely.  
  
Everything moves faster, all the people around my mother and I, but in the background I see my father, rushing up toward me. "Youji! Thank goodness you're okay!" He lies easily. "What happened to your mama? Who did this?"   
  
I just stare up at him. I know better than to tell the truth. I just look down at my mother's body.   
"Mama..." I whisper as I wiggle out of my father's grasp to go pick up some of the daisies. "Sorry...mama..." I lay the flowers on her chest, gently moving one of her hands overtop them.//  
  
"Youji?" A deep voice asks, sounding rather unconcerned...like HIM.   
  
I don't reply, but instead go back to throwing up.   
  
//"There you are, boy."   
  
I keep hiding, shivering in absolute fear.  
  
"Why are you trying to hide from your dear ol' dad?" I see a glimmer from behind his back. He's drunk again...drunk and deadly. "Come out and talk with me."   
  
I inch backward.   
  
"NOW!" The knife lashes out, slashing my back as I turn to run.  
  
I scream softly, but continue scurring out of his path.   
  
In a moment of swiftness, he tackles me to the ground. He growls as he rips at my shirt, touching me in every place possible. Seconds later, my shirt is across the room and he's fumbling with my pants. I try to shut all this out...think of better things, of my mother in her green dress with mountains of dasies. But my thoughts keep going back to what was happening.//  
  
"Youji, I'm coming in."   
  
Aya again. I can barely register his voice overtop of the booming voice of my father.   
  
//He thrusts in and out brutally, his large fingers gripping my bony hips, bruising them. He yells strange things as he rapes me, sometimes it seems like he's talking to me, other times like he's yelling at my mother.//  
  
I can hear Aya pounding against the door, but it later blends in with the grunting of my father.   
  
//Another man comes in, taller than my father with more slender features. Once my father comes inside me, that man starts the cycle all over again. He calls me degrading names as he thrusts, ripping me apart.//  
  
"Youji?!" Aya again. He sounds frantic, almost like he cares. Funny, how things turn out.   
  
Finally, the door crashes open, pieces of wood flying out from where Aya forced the lock to come through the frame. I didn't realize that I had locked the door.   
  
//Time has fastforwarded. The man, the one who calls himself Richard, the first one other than my father to rape me, is hitting me. He's angry that I didn't have the strength to swallow his semen that he ejaculated into my face. For some reason, he's shouting in a mixture of English and Japanese, telling me that I'm nothing but a worthless whore. After you hear something so many times, you can't help but start to believe it. He grabs a nearby bottle, an American whiskey bottle that's empty from his drinking, and knocks me over the head with it. It shatters, of course, shards of glass digging into my skin, ripping it open, blood gushes forth.//  
  
I feel a hand on my shoulder. Aya.   
  
I hear him scream softly, then fall to the floor near me.   
  
//Richard hits me again with the broken bottle, this time across my back, eventually hitting the spot where my father had slashed me with the knife.//  
  
I manage to shout Aya's name and break away from my vomiting. I grope around blindly, searching for whereever Aya landed. Did he trip over me or something?  
  
Memories flood back into me so I don't have time to figure out why Aya fell.  
  
//I'm lying in a pool of my own blood, naked and cold. I'm not cold for long...  
  
A blinding light erupts from behind the bloody mattress. Fire. Shit...I'm going to burn again. Maybe this time I won't somehow make it out alive.   
  
I'm not afraid, even as I watch the flames rise all around me. Actually, I'm wondering if I can even feel the heat. Odd, the things I think of when I'm about to die.//  
  
=================  
  
TBC...  
  
o.O Well...that wasn't too disturbing, was it? Was it hard to follow? Be sure to let me know by either reviewing or emailing me. 


	4. Chapter 3

"What It Would Be Like" (chapter 3)  
Series: Weiß Kreuz  
By: Shukujo Kurai  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss...x_X   
Pairing: YxR/RxY   
Rating: R  
Warnings: OOC, shounen-ai, supernatural, etc...  
Dedication: For MD-neechan, who has always supported me with my fanfic attempts and who displayed a special interest in this fic. You mean the world to me Oneechan.  
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny. _; I know you've been wondering how Aya got these strange abilities...I've already got it figured out, but I'm STILL not sure where I'll bring that in. _   
As you noticed, the last chapter dealt with Youji's traumatic past. Aya had, like, two lines of POV in there...u_u;;; So, to be fair, this chapter will deal more with what Aya thought of what he was shown.   
Remember, I LOVE commentary. ~.^ Moira@Inetone.net  
  
--------------------  
  
I open my eyes hesitantly and am in silent awe of how much of an effort that took. I notice that I'm back in my room, tucked into my bed. My shoes and shirt have been removed, but my pants are thankfully still there.  
  
I rub my aching head. Why did I black out again? I try to remember...  
  
Oh...Youji...  
  
I feel nauseous again. How could all of that happen to ONE person? A child, at that? My past hasn't been particularly pleasant, but when compared with Youji's, it seems like paradise.   
  
Gods, it was like I was standing there while all that was going on. I had to stand by and watch my teammate be repeatedly raped by his own father...and some other guy, but I'm not going to think about that right now. I tried to stop him...I lunged after Youji's father, but I simply passed through him. I should have known better...but I reassure myself that I was merely acting on the instinct to defend my teammate.   
  
I didn't ask to be shown that, really I didn't. I really didn't think about it as I placed my hand upon his shoulder.   
  
I pause to look down at my now cursed hand. It's normal. I don't know what I was expecting, perhaps for it to be covered in Youji's blood. That would have been fitting.  
  
A few seconds of blissful silence pass through my head before a certain thought comes to mind.  
  
Would Youji's 'father' and that man still be alive? Would they have made it out of the fire? I'm not even sure how Youji made it out. But if they are alive, I'll kill them.   
  
Immediately I feel rather embarrassed, trying to reassure myself that I would kill them out of revenge for Youji's lost childhood, but rather for the principle of the thing. Children are NOT sex toys. I'll rip any person from the inside out who thinks so.   
  
Arg...my head hurts. Usually I don't have to absorb that much from one touch...it seems to be stronger with Youji, as are all emotions. Youji is just a passionate individual, raw and open. Everything he does is either black or white, no grey area. I don't think that I've ever seen him display indifference, unlike myself.   
  
I finally force myself to get out of bed, throwing my feet onto the cold floor. Hm...20:17...I can't believe that I was unconscious for almost five hours. I grab my shoes and socks, which are placed neatly beneath a nearby chair, and put them on, followed by my carefully folded shirt.   
  
I really don't want to leave the safety of my desolate room, but I have a duty to Weiss; one that I will fulfill at any cost. I grab the doorknob and turn it gently, attempting not to make any sort of noise whatsoever. The hallway's empty, as I had expected, so I carefully make my way down the steps to the living room, where I can hear the annoying sounds of a soccer game blaring from the television set.   
  
"Aya-kun, you're awake!" Omi's cheerful voice chirps. He practically skips over to me. "What happened, Aya-kun? I came home to find both you and Youji-kun passed out on the floor of the shop's bathroom."  
  
My eyes narrow. How does he expect me to tell him when I don't know the answer myself? Out of reasonable options, I decide to ignore him altogether.   
  
As I come to the kitchen I'm startled to find Youji sitting at the table sipping some coffee.  
  
He looks up and attempts to give me a weak smile. "Hey Aya..."  
  
I nod curtly as I heat a cup of water. I can feel his eyes on me...watching...waiting. What does he want? What more can I do? He's already shared his childhood memories with me...  
  
He traces the rim of the coffee mug with his middle finger, trying to keep from watching me.   
  
The microwave beeps, the noise echoing loudly in my head. I quickly open the door to shut it up. Methodically, I make my tea and ponder whether or not I should take it back to my room. There's no other reason other than my dislike of Youji's company at the moment, so I really have no excuse. Well, I don't need an excuse simply because I'm Aya. No questions asked, no answers given.   
  
I leave the kitchen and return to my room with a heavy inward sigh. This is the way it must be.  
  
----------------  
  
He was avoiding me, as I figured he would. Is he still pissed because he tripped over me or something? It's not my fault he's suddenly clumsy.   
  
The phone rings, cutting me off and actually startling me a bit. I answer it with a friendly English 'Hello?'.   
  
Dead air.  
  
I raise an eyebrow. "Moshi-moshi?" I try, my impatience growing.  
  
Nothing.  
  
I roll my eyes and hang up the phone. Of all the idiotic pranks in the world to play on someone...  
  
"Youji-kun, who was that?"  
  
"No answer, Omittichi." I reply before heading over to the sink to rinse out my mug.   
  
A shrill ringing stops my musings before they can even begin. I growl softly before picking up the phone. "Moshi-moshi?" I spit out rudely.   
  
Again, no answer.   
  
"They're not going to reply, Youji. Just let it ring a few times if they try again." Aya's voice bubbling up from the phone.   
  
Before I can reply, he's already hung up the phone.   
  
Angrily, I stomp up the stairs, not wanting to deal with pranksters right now. Before I even reach the top, the phone rings again. "Arg!" I growl in frustration before realizing that Omi has already picked it up. Guess I should have told him to let it ring. Curious, I listen in.  
  
"Moshi-moshi?" Omi's not-really-deep voice asks in that annoying chipper tone.   
  
"Who is this?" His voice drops to the familiar assassin tone.  
  
I hear him hang up rather loudly, huffing softly before returning to the TV.   
  
I shrug and continue my way up the stairs.   
  
------------------  
  
I move fluidly in the familiar kata, my katana whistling in the stagnant air.   
RING!   
  
I growl audibly as my movements are interrupted. Every time I get halfway through that kata, the phone rings. Only now do I notice that it hasn't rang again. "Didn't I tell you to let it ring, Kudou?!" I yell, not expecting my voice to make it downstairs.   
  
"I didn't answer it. Omittichi did." The answer comes unbidden from outside my door. "Guess I should have told him to let it ring. Sorry, Aya." He continues, catching me off guard with his apology.  
  
"Hn." I grunt, going back to my kata once again.   
  
===========================  
  
TBC...  
  
Ah! Devastatingly short chapter! _ Sorry...I know it was pretty trivial and boring, but I found that it was actually necessary. o.o;  
Yeah, startled me too.   
Be sure to review or email!  
  
~ Kurai 


	5. Chapter 4

What It Would Be Like -- Chapter 4  
Series: Weiß Kreuz  
Author: Shukujo Kurai  
Rating: R  
Pairings: A+Y/Y+A  
Warnings: OOC, Shounen-ai, TWT, supernatural, child-abuse  
Disclaimer: *holds up cardboard sign* I do not own Weiß Kreuz...obviously  
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny. ¬_¬;  
Dedication: To MD-neechan, who has supported me throughout this and has taken an affectionate interest in this story. ~_^  
-------------------------  
  
Arg...I really wish Aya'd stop ignoring me. I mean, I didn't do anything to him, so he has absolutely NO reason to be doing this to me.  
  
*knock knock*  
  
I sigh. If it's Omi again, I swear I'll scream.  
  
Upon opening the door, I find a rather perturbed redhead shoving a brick at me.  
"I believe this was for you."  
  
As I look at him, I can see the little shards of glass in his bright red hair. "Aya, what happened?" I ask as my hand automatically moves to brush the shards out of his hair.  
  
He flinches backward. "Just take your damn brick." He mutters gruffly.  
  
Aya drops the brick into my hand and stalks off.  
  
"Aya," I yell after him, "let me help you clean up."  
  
He freezes. "I don't need your help."  
  
For some reason, this irks me. "If this was for me," I say as I hold up the brick with a note tied to it, "then the least I can do is help you clean up the mess."  
  
He seems to pause, perhaps reconsidering my offer. He simply snorts and walks off after a few seconds of silence.  
  
I take this as a sign of his consent and follow him.  
  
As I step into his room, I feel the unusual chill and I look up to see the gaping hole in the once pristine glass.  
  
I decide not to say anything, but instead set about to finding a piece of wood or something to temporarily fix his window.  
  
--------------  
  
He walked in and walked right back out, the bastard. Some help he was.  
  
I find a broom and start to sweep up the tiny, sparkling shards. Odd, how something so luminous and beautiful could be so very dangerous and harmful. /Remind you of someone?/   
  
I'm slightly startled as Youji slips silently back into the room, carrying pieces of a cardboard box from the shop and some duct tape.  
  
Apparently I'm staring because he stares back at me with a curious look gracing his angular face.  
  
"You gonna help me or what?" He asks, plopping the cardboard down near the window.  
  
I act like I'm ignoring him and continue sweeping.  
  
He sighs softly, slightly exasperated with my behavior. I can hear rustling the cardboard against the window, carefully positioning it to cover the hole.  
  
I can't help but to watch him as he works. He's so perfect, so beautiful despite his past.  
  
"It's not polite to stare, Ayan." He warns, a playful tone lining the potentially harsh words.   
  
I snort softly and resume sweeping; I hadn't realized that I'd paused as he spoke.  
  
After all my efforts to avoid him. I shake my head softly. I did nearly everything. I traded shifts with Ken and Omi, I made sure to be awake only when he was asleep, I took solo missions, visited Aya-chan, everything. But one lump of baked mud forces me to come into contact with him again.   
  
Damn brick.  
  
I didn't read the note; I didn't have to. It's from someone who either really hates Youji or really wants him, I'm not sure which. It was filled with bitter resentment yet lined with powerful lust. I didn't know what to make of it, really.  
  
I look over at my calendar and curse under my breath. I guess I'll be late this month, Otousan...Okaasan.  
  
Youji's watching me out of the corners of his eyes.  
  
"What?" I ask curtly.  
  
He simply shakes his head and goes back to trying to duct tape the window.  
  
I dump the dustpan into a nearby trash can, the tiny tinkling sounds catching my ears, before moving to hold the cardboard in place for Youji.  
  
"Thanks." He mumbles softly, yanking some duct tape off and tearing it with his teeth.  
  
We're halfway through taping my window when the phone rings again.  
  
"Arg!" Youji yells, playfully banging his head against the window frame.   
  
I growl beneath my breath as I move to answer it. "Hn."  
  
My eyes open widely before narrowing to angry slits. "Who are you?" I demand, my voice so low that it's barely audible.   
  
They chuckle at my frustration.  
  
"What the hell do you want?" I demand furiously.  
  
"Your little boy-toy friend..." They say cryptically.   
  
I look over at Youji, who's innocently duct taping my window.  
  
I hear a tell-tale clicking on their side.  
  
"Youji, get down!" I yell before tackling my teammate to the ground. I'm sucked into his mind as the sounds of gunshots fill the stagnant air around us.   
  
I see Youji, frozen at the sight of a short, muscular man. He's yelling at Youji, something about payback for years in prison. Then I see myself, barely conscious, being pulled in front of said man who now brandishes a very large gun. Youji yells, begging for my life. The gun fires and now I see Youji crying over my corpse as a solemn paramedic zippers up the body bag. Grimly, I notice that Youji's covered in blood, probably mine. My head's nothing more than a gaping hole from the point blank gunshot, blood and gray matter pooling inside the bag.  
  
The gunshots stop and Youji crawls out from under me. "What the hell?" He shouts as he runs to the window, his hand brushing against mine along the way.   
  
Back in I go. Now I see Youji, full of bullets, struggling to speak to a nearly crying me.  
  
I grab the enraged green-eyed man and yank him back down as another round hits the already-demolished window. He twists around to face me on the ground, a bewildered expression on his face.   
  
This time I see the Koneko, sans one wall.  
  
I know that I'm coping with the flashes better when I manage to pull out of it and yell to Youji even above the deafening sound of the gunfire.  
  
"We've gotta get out of here!" I somehow manage to convey to my stupefied teammate.  
  
He nods and yells something back that I can't quite make out.  
  
The gunfire stops again and something comes crashing in.   
  
Both Youji and I look over at the object, but Youji freaks out. "Bomb!" He yells, grabbing my hand, hauling me up, and getting me out of the room before I even realize that he had yelled 'bomb'.  
  
Said bomb goes off, sending us flying into an open room, which so happens to be Youji's.  
  
He scrambles about, grabbing a file folder from some hidden place. "Come on!" He shouts, grabbing my hand once again as we run out the door.  
  
I stumble after him, my mind being overwhelmed by so many images that I don't have time to process them.  
  
Ken and Omi meet us on the stairs.  
  
"Get out of here, now!" Youji yells at them, grabbing Ken's arm and reaching for mine.  
  
I pull away, just out of his grasp.  
  
"We can't, Youji, all of our things are here...all of it..." Omi argues whiningly.  
  
"They're just things, Omi, we can live without them!"  
  
For some reason, Omi snaps. "How can you say that?! You don't know what it's like not to have those things!"  
  
Memories from Youji's past come back, unbidden, into my mind, just as fresh as they were earlier this week when he first 'showed' me.   
  
Ken touches my sleeve and I'm pulled into HIS mind. I see our shop, practically flattened, and I see the bodies of all four Weiß members.  
  
"Aya, down!!" I hear Youji yell before a sharp pain flares up on my back.  
  
"K'so..." I grumble spinning around to see my attacker and pulling the dart out at the same time.  
  
The man chuckles from behind his Armani suit. "You shouldn't leave such fun toys lying around." He says smoothly as he pets Omi's crossbow.  
  
Youji steps out in front of me and I can see the tension in his body, probably from being taken off guard. "You're not going to touch them, Rouhi." Youji warns the apparently familiar man, his voice amazingly steady. "I won't let you."  
  
'Rouhi' chuckles at Youji's bravery. "Like you defended yourself....or Asuka?"  
  
Youji's back goes ramrod straight, but something keeps him going. "I try to learn from my mistakes."   
Automatically, he falls into a fighting stance, probably just out of habit.   
  
The man scowls. "You can't learn, you miserable fuck! You never even went to primary school."  
  
Even from my angle, I can see that Youji has paled to a deadly shade of white. "But I AM street-smart." He pauses, taking a well-earned breath. "I learned from the best."  
  
Rouhi smiles as he shoulders the crossbow. "So you've finally accepted that, eh?" He stops to ponder something. "How about this: you come with me willingly and your friends can live to see another day?"  
  
"Where's the fun in that, Rouhi?" A rough American voice asks. "I say we do what we used to do, just for old times' sake." The man from Youji's memories steps out from the partially demolished door. "How about it, whore?"  
  
Omi pipes up at the most inopportune time. "What are they talking about, Youji?"  
  
Youji's green eyes never leave the two men at the top of the stairs. "Nevermind that. You two get him out of here." He orders, pointing to me without turning around.   
  
"Aw, you haven't told them your little secret?" The American asks in a blatantly condescending manner.  
  
"Your friend was a rapist-whore, did you know that?" The shorter man asks as he pushes his sunglasses back up on his face.   
  
Omi and Ken go silent. "Youji...." One of them whispers. "Is that true?"  
  
"Yep, he was the best cock-sucker around." The foreigner tells us, regaling in what appear to be fond memories for him.   
  
I search Youji's face for answers, but instead find nothing. He doesn't seem embarrassed by this admission at all. I can't help but to wonder if he's proud of it or something equally as revolting. "...You three get the hell out of here and don't come back."  
  
The drug that was in the dart makes me sway and as I get closer to Youji, perhaps even brushing against him, I can hear his thoughts, unconsciously projected by the immense amount of emotions trapped inside his lanky frame. |Because I'll be dead...hopefully along with those two.| I stagger as I force my body to straighten up and look intimidating. "I'm not leaving, Youji."   
  
He breaks eye contact with the American to stare at me with his huge green eyes.   
  
"...Whatever happened to you...whatever you once were...None of that matters." My vision starts to swirl. "...I refuse to leave you here."  
  
"How sweet...well, we can always use two whores, right Rouhi?"  
  
"You're not going to use him!" Youji screams, his voice cracking in the midst of it all. "I won't let you use him like you did me!" He turns back to me, even though I can't really focus on his face right now. "They'll just use you against me, now get out of here...please...?"   
  
The shorter one sighs. "You can stop trying to protect their names, boy, we already know them." He points at Omi. "Tsukiyono Omi, son of my ol' buddy Reiji;" His finger moves over to Ken, "Hidaka Ken, ex-famous soccer-player;" He finally points at me, "and Fujimiya Ran, renound swordsman and former waiter." He seems bored by all this, rightfully so.  
  
I snarl at him for good measure. If he's a friend of Takatori's, then he's automatically beneath scum in my eyes.  
  
"Oh, I forgot your little resentment of Reiji." He muses. "How IS little Aya-chan these days? Doing better, I hope."  
  
I snap, lunging up the stairs only to be held back by Youji. I'm only further annoyed by the impending visions. I see the shorter man with an unconscious version of me in his short, stubby arms. Youji's chasing after us while the American uses him for target practice. As Youji finally falls, he screams my name and it reverberates through my head. /AYA!!!/  
  
"Aya, stop it. He's just trying to piss you off enough to where you'll come up there, they'll have a net waiting and they'll launch it and you'll be caught and put through the same shit I was and I don't want that to happen to you, Aya, so please PLEASE stop..." He blurts out all in one breath.  
  
I regain my bearings and stare into Youji's pleading emerald eyes. If only he knew just how beautiful and strong he is inside...  
  
Youji... 'please don't die on me...' The thought crosses my mind, completely unbidden, not even sure if I managed to say anything at all.   
  
The two men are saying something, so I turn to look at them only to be met with the glassy eyes of two large beasts. The short man's somehow transformed into a strong black bull and the American's now a lion.   
  
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to banish the obvious hallucinations. Gods, THIS is why I never let Kritiker drug me...  
  
The lion lets out a roar, deafening to my now overly-sensitive ears.  
  
I see a young Youji, happily running through a field of daisies. Instinctively, I follow him, trying to catch up. Suddenly it registers that the boy's eyes are always covered in a veil of shadows. The boy turns toward me, an absolutely wicked smirk on his face and something clenched in his hands.   
Garroting wire.   
  
"Youji?" I ask as the boy approaches me. He stops about a meter away from me and suddenly brightens, presenting me with a daisy, the wire nowhere to be found. Bewildered by this, I automatically move to accept it only to have the boy suddenly behind me, the sharp wire at my throat.   
  
"Youji, stop!" I manage to yell before the wire closes completely around my neck. My hands instinctively claw at it, primal instinct taking over.  
  
My vision wobbles and little glittering dots float around. Darkness follows the shiny specks, slowly creeping in from all sides.  
  
I continue fighting my losing battle against the wire.   
  
Before I know it, the darkness has enveloped my entire vision and I'm left with nothing but the bleak memories of what had just transpired.  
  
================  
  
TBC....  
  
Kurai: Well that was....  
MD: DUDE, that's SCARY stuff  
Kurai: o.o Um...yeah, well, now I'm at a roadblock....u_u;;; 


	6. Chapter 5

What It Would Be Like -- Chapter 5  
Series: Weiß Kreuz  
Author: Shukujo Kurai  
Rating: R  
Pairings: A+Y/Y+A  
Warnings: OOC, Shounen-ai, TWT, supernatural, child-abuse  
Disclaimer: *holds up cardboard sign* I do not own Weiß Kreuz...obviously  
Dedication: To MD-neechan, who has supported me throughout this and has taken an affectionate interest in this story, and to Duo-kun, who has always supported my efforts in writing, no matter how bad they were. ^.^  
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny. _;   
Okay...I've been stuck on this chapter for EVER...I thought I'd never get around to even STARTING it...but, as always, MD-neechan and Duo-kun encouraged me. Arigatou, oneechan, Duo-kun.  
Oh, this is ALL in Aya's POV...for once. So when there is a separation, it just denotes a scene change. kk?  
  
=================  
  
The first thing that I'm aware of is muffled voices. They're soft and somewhat familiar, so I'm not as worried as I probably should be. If only I could get my eyes to open...  
  
"Um...Aya-kun?"   
  
It's only Omi. I groan in reply.   
  
"Thank goodness you're okay!" He babbles, stumbling on whatever he was going to say next.   
  
I manage to pry my eyes open and look around. Omi's to my right, blushing and stammering. Ken's sort of at my feet, avoiding my gaze. No Youji. "Where's Youji?" I ask, forcing myself to sit upright and immediately regretting the decision.   
  
This reinforces their behaviors. Omi blushes harder and eventually just stops trying to talk while Ken seems to be trying to curl up while standing.   
  
"Where is he?" I know I'm glaring at them, but I can't help it.   
  
"Um...well, you see-"  
  
"He told us to get you out of there...when we got back, they were gone." Ken answers me finally, still avoiding looking at me.   
  
I stare at them. "And you actually listened to him?" I ask incredulously. They couldn't have just left him there...with those two men...not when they treated Youji like they did...  
  
"He didn't really give us an option, Aya...or whatever your name is."  
  
I focus my glare on Ken alone.   
  
Omi tenses. "I really don't think...that now is the time to be confronting Aya-kun with this. Lets try to find Youji-kun first..."  
  
"Where are we now?" I ask, looking around in a vain attempt to determine my location.  
  
"A Kritiker safehouse." A distinctly unwelcome voice answers from behind me. Manx.   
  
I turn around to stare at her. "Where?"  
  
"About half an hour from the Koneko." She replies, cool and calm as ever.  
  
"I need to go back there." I state as I force myself to stand up. "Immediately."  
  
"Of course." Manx states blandly. I don't think she's taking me seriously.  
  
I glare at her, though it will probably do me no good.  
  
"Siberian, Bombay, please excuse Abyssinian and I for a moment." She commands, her gaze never leaving mine.   
  
Ken and Omi reluctantly do as she says, lingering as though they're afraid that I'm going to kill her.   
  
Once she decides that they're out of earshot, she finally speaks. "They were gone when reinforcements arrived." She surprises me slightly by sighing softly. "I'm afraid that you know more about what's going on than we do...you always have." She turns to look at me, her expression unreadable.  
  
Kritiker knows about this 'talent' that I've acquired. Ever since they found out, they've been trying to get me to work on the intelligence side of their operation. I've refused each time. I narrow my eyes in hope that she'll say something meaningful.  
  
"Persia and I want Balinese back as soon as possible, you know that. But Kritiker's analysts have determined that he is now a threat to Weiß security."  
  
I hold my breath subconsciously. Please don't say it...don't ask it of me...  
  
"Your task is to eliminate Balinese should this be true."  
  
I can almost feel my world crumbling around me. "...no..." I whisper softly, aware of the curious look Manx is giving me. "You...You cannot ask this of me. Balinese and I are both Weiß."  
  
"Would you rather I ask it of Siberian or Bombay?"   
  
I freeze. I can't do that to them. They wouldn't be able to follow through anyway. "...No." I finally murmur, defeated. "I shall do as you ask." But that doesn't mean that I have to do it right away. "May I ask one other thing?"  
  
She nods, her red hair bobbing up and down as she does so.  
  
"What if I fail?"  
  
"Then you shall both be eliminated."   
  
--------------  
  
I open the back door to the Koneko, which is surprisingly still connected to the doorframe. I go upstairs, ignoring the footfalls behind me. Why Manx insisted on accompanying me is far beyond the realms of my imagination.  
  
I immediately head toward the steps where I remember being last. I spot pieces of paper, some wafting around on the breeze from the gaping hole in my wall upstairs and others trapped underneath debris from the explosion. They're probably from the file that Youji had grabbed when we were knocked into his room. Without hesitation, I grab one of the ones floating by.   
  
I see a tall figure slouched in front of a typewriter, its slender hands poised to type. I can only assume that this is Youji just after he was recovered from his father's custody. The dirty long brown hair, lifeless green eyes, malnourished body covered in scars and bandaged wounds. Yes. This is Youji. He types slowly, this probably being the first time he's ever even seen a typewriter. This is getting me nowhere fast. I finally drop the paper and grab another one.  
  
This time I see his memories as he types. I see a house, well, actually a glorified hole in the wall, but a shelter nonetheless. There are trash cans and dumpsters all around, all full of empty beer cans and empty liquor bottles. There's no numbers on the 'house', but there are several graffiti tags. I instinctively memorize the designs and move onto another piece of paper.  
  
I can only hear things this time, a booming voice yelling at someone, probably Youji. The voice is too drunk to make out, something about 'this time' and what I assume to be sex. Another dead end.  
  
This time I forgo the papers and head upstairs. I'm anxious, nervous that they could still be there with a net like Youji said. My hand automatically moves to my side and I'm not happy to find that I am without my katana. With a growl, I step over piles of debris and manage to make it into my room. Or what used to be my room. I look down at the hole in my floor and glare balefully at it. So much for my room being neat and tidy. I grumble to myself and kick some debris out of the way as I search for my katana. If it's damaged, I swear I'll kill them both. It's not under what used to be my futon, it's not under my now-demolished bookshelf, it's not underneath all my scattered clothes, and it's not in plain sight. If it fell down that damned hole...  
  
I move over to said condemned hole, kneel down, grip the edges to look down, and instead get sucked into more visions.  
  
At last, the visions prove useful. I see my katana sliding across the floor as the bomb explodes, it hits the doorframe and slides into the hallway. The vision suddenly stops. I must need to get that far then touch something that my katana touched to finish the vision. Manx steps into the doorway and asks if I've found anything yet.   
  
"A giant hole in my floor." I grumble as I push past her.   
  
"And your wall from the looks of it." She adds flippantly. "What are you after?"  
  
"My katana." I answer, not wanting to provoke her. If I do, it might mean Youji's life. Annoyed, I touch the floor in a rather desperate attempt to find said katana. Surprisingly, I actually get the rest of the first vision. It slid out into the hallway and then into the only open door other than mine. Youji's.   
  
I get up and head into my fallen companion's room in search of my elusive katana. Ha. Found it. I stride over toward Youji's dresser and pick up my sought-after weapon. Again, I am caught off-guard by the assault on my brain. Infernal visions.   
  
I see the present-day Youji walking between the two men while towering over them. Someone must have seen them. That'd stick out in my mind, but then again, not all people in Tokyo are trained assassins. They walk a few blocks before getting into a car with no identifying marks or license plates. Shit. I keep clutching my katana in hopes that I'll see something definite. For the first time in what seems like ages, luck seems to be on my side. I see a woman watching the trio from her window. The same woman from the flower shop a few days ago.   
  
I keep my cool and continue searching. Nothing in Youji's room. Nothing in the hallway. Nothing in my room. I start to head down to the alleyway where the brick...the brick. What did Youji do with that damn brick? I dash back into his room and look around, finally finding the lump of dried mud underneath Youji's dresser. I get no feelings or visions from it, but the note's still attached. I untie it and read it to myself, going back over it several times to see if I missed anything.  
  
\\Youji,  
Miss us? We're out of that damn hellhole you put us in six years ago.   
We're back and we want you back.  
Get ready, Youji.\\  
  
"Manx?" I ask, loudly enough so that she can hear me.   
  
"Yes?" She replies politely, sticking her head in the doorway, looking oddly sympathetic.   
  
"Would you try to gather up those papers that are floating around on the steps?"  
  
She raises an eyebrow, but surprisingly does as I had requested.  
  
I look back down at the note and decide to pocket it before taking a look around Youji's room. Perhaps something in here...  
  
I wander around aimlessly, feeling for all the world like I'm going to start crying. I haven't felt so damn helpless since THAT happened. Shit. I force my emotions back as I pull out several drawers of his dresser and toss everything out onto the floor. Surprisingly, no visions or emotions come other than my own.   
  
Not now....Not now...The one time I NEED it, not now...  
  
I start to choke on the air I'm trying to breathe and I feel like I'm going to throw up. Not now...  
  
I move over toward Youji's closet, having grown disgusted with the decided lack of anything useful in his dresser drawers. I fling open the doors to the walk-in closet and look around, finally spotting what appears to be a fire-proof safe. So I'm not the only one that keeps one of these here... I touch it and am honestly relieved to get a vision from it.   
  
It's Youji's hand opening the safe and, yes, I can read the numbers that he stops on.   
I grab the combination lock and spin it around to the desired numbers. 15...36...06. The safe makes a noise and the door swings open, revealing its contents to me.  
  
One at a time, I remind myself. No sense in trying to process five things at once. I grab a picture.   
  
Nothing.  
  
I frown and grab another of what appears to be Youji's late fiancee.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Shit. I grab a box and open it. A gold chain with a ladies diamond ring on it.  
  
Nothing.   
  
I'm starting to panic by now. I grab another picture of the dead fiancee.  
  
Nothing.  
  
I'm panicking fully now. My heart won't stop beating fast...my mind's racing. In desperation, I grab the last picture.  
  
//"Youji?" That sweet voice...  
  
"Yeah, mama?" Youji's voice as a child answers.  
  
A woman with curly orange-ish hair comes into view, her right eye has been blackened and her lip split until her blood covers the front of her torn light green blouse. "Youji...my sweet little boy..." She whispers softly, fighting to stay conscious.  
  
"Mama?" Youji's voice asks, worry clearly evident. "Mama?" He repeats as he hesitantly runs into her outstretched arms.   
"Mama hurt..."  
  
She smiles down at her son. "Yes..." She caresses one of Youji's extremely thin cheeks.   
  
"Papa angry again?" Bright green eyes look up into pain-hazed green ones.   
  
"Yes..." She replies softly, closing her eyes.   
  
The boy takes a little time to contemplate this. "Mad at Mama?"  
  
She nods.   
  
The little version of Youji looks down at his mother's lap, which is also blood-stained. "Papa drinking?" He asks softly with a wisdom that no small child should ever possess.  
  
The woman pauses, holding back tears. "...Yes."  
  
Tiny arms wrap around her slender waist and an equally tiny face is buried into her upper chest.   
  
She does cry this time. "Youji, promise me something."  
  
He looks up, watery green eyes promising his mother the universe. "An'thing for Mama..."  
  
She fights back more tears upon hearing this. "Promise me...that when you have a family...that you won't treat them...like this. That you won't hurt them...in any way...promise me...please..."  
  
"I promise, Mama, I promise!" He swears firmly before burying his face in his mother's bruised shoulder.  
  
She smiles gently, her eyes glazing over as she continues her battle for consciousness. "You're...such a good boy...Youji." She praises him as she tenderly strokes his dirty, blood-soaked hair.//  
  
"...ssinian?!" The owner of the voice stops near me, but doesn't touch me. She knows better.   
  
I ignore any further intrusions and resume clutching the picture to my chest, my head on my knees, my knees on the floor.   
I'm crying...I'm crying...  
  
Apparently my pleas from earlier have been answered, only now I wish that I weren't seeing this.   
  
//"Mama?" Youji's tiny voice asks softly as he and his mother scatter flower petals.   
  
"Yes?" She asks, pausing to watch the petals come to rest against the cool water of the lake.   
  
Youji pauses this time. "What'll happen...if som'thin' happens to you?"  
  
She looks away from him, her face a mixure of fear, worry, and self-loathing. "Then your father will use you instead." She replies at last.  
  
"Use me for what?" He asks, somehow still innocent to this world that he was brought into.   
  
Her green eyes squeeze shut. "For money."   
  
He stares at her, not fully understanding. "Like Mama?" He asks, apparently gaining some form of insight.   
  
"Yes, like Mama."//  
  
I curl up more, trying my best not to be sick. The last image wasn't that bad, don't get me wrong. It's the first one that'll keep haunting me.   
  
Feelings well up inside me, ones that I've carefully hidden for so very long.   
  
Youji...  
  
I want Youji back...  
  
I want to see him smile at me and make idiotic jokes, not caring when I glare at him or leave the room. I want to see him flirt with the girls in the shop again, making their day a little brighter just by existing. I even want to see him kill with his wire, his eyes cold and calculating beneath his sunglasses. I want him to try to get me to talk with him, to tell me about myself and about what's bothering me.   
  
I want him at my side again...  
  
===================  
  
TBC?  
  
Let me know how it was by either reviewing or emailing me. ~.^  
  
~ Kurai 


	7. Chapter 6

What It Would Be Like -- Chapter 6  
  
Series: Weiß Kreuz  
  
Author: Shukujo Kurai  
  
Rating: R  
  
Pairings: A+Y/Y+A  
  
Warnings: OOC, shounen-ai, TWT, supernatural, child-abuse  
  
Disclaimer: *holds up cardboard sign* I do not own Weiß Kreuz...obviously.  
  
Dedication: To MD-neechan, Duo-kun, Soulstrife, and Nekojita. Thanks so much for everything, guys. Also, to all the supportive reviewers. I'm afraid I'd miss one if I tried to give everyone credit. Thank you all so much for your support.  
  
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny.   
  
Okay...once again, I've been stuck on this chapter for EVER...I thought I'd never get around to even STARTING it...but everyone's reviews spurred me on. Everyone loves this story...I hope I don't ruin it for everyone.  
  
//~~~// indicate flashbacks or memories, depending on whose POV it's in. ||~~~|| indicate what's on the tape player.  
  
Oh, this is ALL in Aya's POV again. So when there is a line of hyphens, it just denotes a scene change. kk?  
  
=================  
  
This is my punishment for preferring people to pay in cash, I'm sure of it. I realize this as I sift through more records in the Koneko than Ken has soccer balls. I really don't have time for this.  
  
"Come on." Manx's tired voice orders me as she heads toward the door. "There are a few things I think you should know before you go after these guys."   
  
I don't bother to ask whether or not I should bring the records with me, I just leave them behind. She knows more than she's telling me, I'm sure of it.  
  
---------  
  
I drum my fingers against the desk of a random Kritiker intelligence agent. Why am I here? I should be going after Youji. Again, I find myself wondering if Manx and the rest of Kritiker really don't want me to find Youji. Why else would they keep stalling me? They know that I could find him within a few hours.   
  
Manx tosses down a tape player, seeming to be in a hurry to get out of here. "Here. Listen to this." She turns to leave without another word.  
  
"Where are you going?" I demand, almost to the point of tying her to this chair.  
  
She pauses and her head lowers. "I heard that tape once...I don't want to hear it again." Her heels make clicking sounds as she practically runs out of the room, slamming the door behind her.   
  
I do nothing but raise an eyebrow and turn back around to stare at the tape player. It's probably full of things that I already know about. Hidden things from Youji's past, things about the abuse from his father, things about the mother's death. All I can do is put the headphones on and hit play since I know I won't get out of here until I do.   
  
|| "Social Services case number 30095 - Kudou Youji." A light male voice reads mechanically.   
  
The sounds of a door creaking open and footsteps can be heard amidst the white noise from the tape.   
  
"You must be Youji." The same male voice greets. "I'm Doctor Hisumo."   
  
Silence.   
  
"Have a seat." The doctor tells the silent boy. "Where'd you get all those bruises from? And those bandaged ones?"  
  
Again, nothing.  
  
"Is it a secret?"   
  
No sounds come from the boy. ||  
  
Hesitantly, I touch the player, afraid of what I might see.   
  
I see the young, heavily bandaged Youji sitting across from a lanky doctor with sandy brown hair. Youji's hands are folded in his lap and he's staring at the table.   
  
The player's still playing, I know, but I can no longer hear the white noise. It's like I'm sitting between the two, an uninvited invisible observer.   
  
//"You don't talk much, do you, Youji?" The doctor asks, trying to get anything out of the boy across from him.   
  
A tiny fist comes up to clutch at the opposite sleeve of the hospital scrubs that Youji's wearing.   
  
A look of contemplation crosses the doctor's face before a devious smirk replaces it. It's like he knows what he's about to do, that it could either bring Youji out of his shell or push him further in. "How's your mother?"   
  
Youji winces visibly and his arms move to wrap around his small torso. "Still dead." He replies softly without inflection or emotion.   
  
"Oh?" The doctor feigns surprise. "Sorry....we'll move on."//  
  
I growl softly because I know it's a ploy to get Youji to talk to him.   
  
//"....I miss her." Youji finally whispers as a small tear falls onto his lap.   
  
"If you don't mind my asking, how did she die?" Doctor Hisumo asks, trying to be objective, but obviously surprised by the earnest comment from the boy.   
  
"She was killed." The voice still remains emotionless and empty, which is probably disturbing the doctor to no end.  
  
"Do you know who killed her?"   
  
Youji stays silent for a few minutes then nods slowly.   
  
"Will you tell me?"   
  
Green eyes look up, broken and haunted. "You're not ready yet." A surprisingly steady voice explains.   
  
"I'm not?" The doctor asks, scribbling down things. "When will I be ready?"   
  
The tiny form across from him glares with hatred. "When you've heard everything else."   
  
The glare from his young patient seems to be getting to the doctor more than anticipated. "So..."  
  
Youji's small mouth goes to one side. "You're not very competent, are you?"   
  
The doctor's eyes open widely, surprised at either the comment itself or the vocabulary with which the small boy graces him with. "How old are you, Youji?"   
  
"...twelve."   
  
"How long ago did your mother die?" The doctor probes further, probably only adding to the damage inside Youji.   
  
"......six years ago."   
  
"Who kept you after that?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Youji?" The doctor asks, leaning over slightly to talk to make sure his patient hasn't gone catatonic or anything. "I just want to know who you lived with after your mother passed away, that's all."   
  
"...I lived with the father." Youji mumbles into his sweatpants.   
  
"You don't like your father?"//  
  
I want to scream, I want to rip that doctor's head off for pushing Youji this far.   
  
//"....You're supposed to love your parents, right?" Youji asks, leaving his head buried in the soft material of his pants.   
  
"Not necessarily." The doctor replies, finally saying something right. "Parents can be bad people and no one has the obligation to love a bad person."   
  
"I'm a bad person...does that mean that no body has to love me?"   
  
The doctor raises an eyebrow at this comment. "I seriously doubt that you're a bad person, Youji. But no one has to love anyone else, whether they're good or bad. Love is a conscious choice."   
  
Youji remains silent for a few minutes and the doctor waits patiently. "I loved my mother...but I don't love the father...the father is a bad person."   
  
"How is he a bad person? Does he get angry a lot?"  
  
"...yeah."  
  
"I get angry too, does that make me a bad person?"  
  
"...yes."  
  
The doctor pauses for a few seconds, carefully trying to sort out what's going on in Youji's head. "What does 'getting angry' involve?"  
  
Youji looks up and graces the doctor with a look that clearly says 'you're-an-adult,-you-should-know'. He sighs and puts his head back down on his knees. "When you get angry, you hit things."  
  
"People too?"  
  
"Mostly people."   
  
Doctor Hisumo dawns a look of understanding. "Does it involve drinking?"  
  
"...sometimes, but it doesn't have to."   
  
"Did your father drink a lot?"  
  
"...yes."  
  
"Did your mother drink?"  
  
"No!" Youji yells, defending the only person he's ever loved. "Mama didn't drink! Mama hated drinking. She only drank water. The father called her a 'hippy'."  
  
"Where was your mama from?" The doctor asks, trying to find neutral ground.  
  
"Am...Amer…ica." Youji stumbles on the foreign name.   
  
"You have a good English accent. Did your mother teach you English?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Youji replies in English. "But the father didn't like it because he didn't speak it very well." He continues, still in the foreign language as though it were his own.   
  
"Good grammar as well. You're a smart boy, aren't you?"  
  
Youji just shrugs. "Being smart got Mama in trouble."  
  
"With your father?"  
  
"The father hated anyone smarter than he was. Mama was smarter, but he was 'clever'." Youji pauses. "What is 'clever'? Mama called the father 'clever' a lot, but she never told me what it meant."  
  
"It's like 'quick' or 'resourceful'. Sometimes it's meant to convey having street-smarts instead of being book-smart."  
  
Youji looks up with a raised eyebrow. "Oh..." He says, still not quite grasping it. "Mama said the father was manipulative." He informs the doctor, still using English.   
  
This time the doctor raises an eyebrow. "You know what manipulative means?" He's obviously having a hard time keeping up with Youji's English abilities.   
  
"Mm-hmm. It's when you wrongly use people to your advantage....blackmailing is manipulative." Youji replies easily with a nod to confirm his definition.  
  
"That's right." The doctor praises him with a look of awe. "You're like a little dictionary."   
  
"Mama bought me a dictionary once, but the father found it and burnt it." He picks at the drawstring of his pants.  
  
"I bet your father did more than just that..."  
  
Youji nods. "Mama couldn't open her left eye for a few days...or smile." He pauses. "I loved to see her smile...she was pretty."   
  
"I bet it bothered you when it hurt her too much to smile." The doctor prods.   
  
"Yes. Sometimes it was so bad that neither Mama or I could chew our food 'cause our faces were so sore." He admits, seeming to trust the doctor more and more.   
  
The doctor frowns when Youji's not looking. "Did that happen a lot?"   
  
"Not at the same time. It was either Mama or me." He looks back up, smiling at something. "Guess what Mama did after the father got so mad!"  
  
"What'd she do?" The doctor asks, smiling back at Youji.   
  
"She bought me a 'pocket dictionary' and told me never to let the father see it." He smiles proudly.   
  
"She sounds like a brave woman."   
  
Youji regards the doctor with blank eyes, his mind trying to process the comment. "'Brave' is being strong up here," a bandaged finger points to Youji's head, "right?"  
  
"Yeah, pretty much so. It's not being afraid."   
  
Youji tilts his head to one side. "Mama was afraid, but it wasn't for her safety. She was afraid that I'd get hurt."  
  
"Why didn't your mother ever leave your father?"  
  
Youji looks away. "She did once...she took me with her."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"The father found us...Mama couldn't move at all for a few days...I couldn't either."   
  
The doctor winces. "He hurt you that bad?"  
  
"Badly." Youji corrects. "It's 'badly'. And yes, he did."   
  
The doctor can't help but to smile a bit. "Your mother taught you English very well." He regards Youji with a curious expression. "I thought you said that being smart gets you into trouble."  
  
Youji looks the doctor straight in the eyes. "You won't hit me. You're not the father. If you do, I'll hit you right back. I'm not afraid of you."   
  
"Why aren't you afraid of me, Youji?" The doctor asks.   
  
"You haven't given me a reason to be." Youji replies. "Besides, you get paid to be nice."   
  
--------------------  
  
An hour later, I've gone through the first tape. There's nothing else of much importance on it, just Youji telling the doctor how much he loved his mother and hated 'the father'. I'm still working around the whole 'the father' thing. The only thing that I can figure is that it depersonalizes the relationship between Kudou Rouhi and Youji.   
  
I pinch the bridge of my nose. It's sad how close the two names are when you write them in English. Just two letters apart. Rouhi and Youji.   
  
I have to shake my head to clear it of unpleasant thoughts. The names are so close...and the apple never falls far from the tree. Youji's playboy nature doesn't help clear things up for me. Was his father a playboy too? What if Youji's turning into his father?   
  
"You made it through the first one?" Manx asks as she pops her head in.   
  
"Hn." Is all I can grunt out.   
  
"Do you want the rest?" She offers, the tapes already in her hands.   
  
"Don't you have transcripts of these?" I bite out, frustrated with the time I'm wasting.   
  
She steps in and fiddles with the five cassettes in her hand. "I just thought they'd help more....with the...." She fumbles over the non-existent word for my so-called gift.   
  
I look her in the eyes, noticing only worry and sincerity. She doesn't want to terminate Youji. None of us do. "Are you working on tracking him, on finding that woman?" I ask, needing to know that someone's doing something constructive while I'm strolling down fucking memory lane.   
  
"Yes. Twenty of Kritiker's analysts are on it." She looks behind her at the closed door. "He wasn't wearing a tracking device."  
  
"He hated them." I add, tracing the outline of the first cassette. "Omi and I always had to force him to wear one on missions." A vague smile graces my face as I remember the hassle Omi and I always went through every mission. That was how Youji operated.   
  
She smiles back and lays the tapes on the desk. "If at any time you decide to discontinue....to stop going through the tapes, just come out. I'll be out there talking to the analysts." She informs me, then leaves.   
  
I grab the tape marked two and pop it in.  
  
-----------------------  
  
||Social Services case number 30095: Kudou Youji.||   
  
I can't suppress the sigh as I reach out to touch the tape player.   
  
//I see the doctor sitting at their usual table, talking into his tape recorder.   
  
"Youji is the first child I've encountered in my time as a psychologist who has endured so much trauma throughout life and HASN'T developed a disorder such as MPD or disassociative identity. Since these disorders are caused by the individual's particular coping mechanisms, I can only wonder what Youji's are."  
  
"You're talking about me again, aren't you?" Youji's light voice cuts in before the door opens more than a crack. As he enters, I notice that he's sporting a new bandage on his face.   
  
"What happened to your cheek?" The doctor asks, his interest having been piqued.   
  
Youji flops down on the chair across from the doctor, obviously unhappy with this choice of conversation. "Some of the other kids at the orphanage."  
  
The doctor rolls his eyes. "It's not--"  
  
"I know, I know," Youji cuts him off, "It's not an orphanage, it's an adolescent homeless shelter." He rolls his green eyes. "Orphanage even sounds better."  
  
"Would you like to go into foster care?" The doctor asks.  
  
Again, Youji rolls his eyes. "If you'd actually check up on me once in a while, you'd know that they've tried to put me in foster homes."  
  
The doctor has the decency to blush at Youji's comment.   
  
"They send me back 'cause I don't get along with anyone...and they don't like my nightmares and flashbacks." He leans over and pouts against his crossed arms that rest on his legs. "Remember when you said love is a conscious choice?"  
  
The doctor nods.   
  
"Maybe it's not, you know? These people make the choice to love whatever child gets sent to their home, but they can't love me. They send me back. Maybe some people are just unlovable." Youji sighs against his ratty blue jeans.   
  
The doctor just watches him, apparently speechless.   
  
After a few seconds of silence between the two, the doctor grabs his briefcase and yanks some papers out. "Do you know what these are?" He asks, voice nearly cracking, shoving them at Youji.  
  
Youji's green eyes calmly look at them, then widen slightly. "...Adoption papers?" He looks back up at the doctor, eyes wide and disbelieving. "But...why?"   
  
"That'll make the fifth set." Doctor Hisumo grumbles pitifully, yanking more sets out of his briefcase. He slides them over to Youji, the giant red 'rejected' prominent on them.   
  
".....why?" The tiny boy across from him squeaks out.   
  
"I'm single. They want a family with a mother and a father for you." He sighs softly. "I guess that'd be best, you know."  
  
"No...I don't know." Youji interjects. "All those 'preferred families' have rejected me," a small warm smile crosses his face, "but maybe a 'rejected family' prefers me."//  
  
I'd watch more, finally finding out that my teammate actually found something akin to happiness, but the visions go haywire on me. One minute I'm smiling at Youji's happier childhood memories, the next I'm on the floor writhing as less pleasant memories flood my head.   
  
//"Papa?" A slightly older and healthier looking Youji backs up from the scene before him where his real father and the blonde man are holding a bleeding Dr. Hisumo at knifepoint.   
  
"Yes, Youji, now you're going to come with us or --"  
  
"You shut the hell up and let go of my papa!" Youji screams, cutting Rouhi off.  
  
Rouhi doesn't appreciate this comment. "I raised you, boy, not this scrap of a man!" He yells, the knife digging into Dr. Hisumo's neck.   
  
"Run, Youji!" The doctor manages to garble out.  
  
"How the hell'd you get out anyway, you bastard?" Youji demands as he slings off his backpack.   
  
"S'called 'bail', kid." The blonde answers in a bored tone.  
  
"Well, who the hell'd pay YOUR bail?" Youji demands, digging in his back pocket for something.   
  
"My lawyer." He replies easily. "Look, Rouhi, what are we gonna do with the shrink?"   
  
Rouhi sighs. "The kid seems to be kind of attached to him, so we're gonna use him to OUR advantage."//  
  
The scene flickers a bit, but only gets more intense.   
  
//"Are you going to come with us, Youji?" the boy's father asks again, growing bored with his son and the half-dead psychiatrist.  
  
Youji wipes away tears as he looks at the blood-soaked form of his adoptive father. "...Yes."   
  
"No!" Dr. Hisumo gurgles out, his body too damaged to do anything else.  
  
Rouhi rolls his eyes. "Shut up, you child-stealing bastard." He grumbles as he plunges the knife into the wounded man's chest.   
  
Youji watches the scene, tears streaming down his face, too traumatized to move.   
  
The dark-haired man turns to the boy. "You see now, boy? Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."  
  
Mindlessly, Youji nods.//  
  
"Abyssinian?"  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Voices cut through the blackness as the last vision fades and another one tries to begin. I must have been screaming or something loud enough to attract all this attention.   
  
"No! Don't touch him!" Manx's voice orders them all. "You'll interrupt any visions he might get, any clues to finding Balinese."   
  
Her voice gets drowned out as a vision takes place. I see Youji and a young woman -- his fiancee -- walking through the park, working on cases, visiting places, eating at nice restaurants -- all the happy things that people never really stop and think about, never really appreciate until they're gone. Then I see the woman throwing herself in front of Youji, taking bullets for her lover. She falls to the ground and Youji proceeds to get shot repeatedly. As he briefly studies his attackers, a look of recognition crosses his face before he falls as well, reaching out for his fiancee's hand.  
  
The voice of Kudou Rouhi booms in the background, a memory from the last murder. //"Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."//  
  
The scene changes to the mission where that prostitute, Maki, was killed.   
  
Then I see him having to kill Neu, the new Asuka. I watch as he slowly falls apart, drinking himself into oblivion while none of Weiß even notices or cares.  
  
Then I see something I'm really not familiar with, a Youji with short, chopped hair killing another woman while crying softly, whispering her name -- Michelle.   
  
Then I see the same shorthaired Youji killing another woman, a rather insane-seeming one, muttering something about a Tsuji-sensei.   
  
Again, the scene cuts away to a shot of the shorthaired Youji with three other men. He's yelling at them, asking them why they're so sure that they're in the right with their justice. He turns to one, a short boy with grey-ish hair and an outfit that reminds me strangely of a Nazi, and calls him by name. Omi. He turns to another, a boy with odd brown hair and fox-like brown eyes, and calls him Ken. Then he turns to a man with long burgundy hair, his own green eyes begging the man to understand, and calls him Aya.   
  
I scream. No, this can't be Weiß, that can't be me! That man glaring at Youji without a shred of compassion cannot be me. I won't let it be me! I grab my head in pain and let out a loud, ear-piercing shriek.   
  
//"Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."//  
  
The visions don't stop. I see that shorthaired Youji in his room or apartment, whatever. He's got his head on his knees and he's talking to nothing.   
  
//"God...why? Why is my life such a shithole?"//  
  
As the words leave his lips, I see flashes from his past. His mother being beaten....  
  
//"Why...why is it that no one understands?"//  
  
His mother being raped by Richard in their shitty hole-in-the-wall...  
  
//"Why doesn't anyone care?!"//  
  
Him being raped by both Rouhi and Richard...  
  
//"Why can't I just die?!"//  
  
His mother being killed by Rouhi...  
  
//"Why can't I die?!"//  
  
Dr. Hisumo being tortured and finally killed at the hands of Rouhi...  
  
//"Goddamnit!" The wire in his hands wraps around his wrist.//  
  
Asuka dying before his eyes...  
  
//"Cut...deeper, damn you!"//  
  
Maki being killed...  
  
//The scene itself changes to the new Weiß on a mission, Youji being the decoy. "God...it's always me...the expendable one..."//  
  
Asuka as Neu coming back with Schreint and trying to kill us...  
  
//"The feckless playboy...that no one needs." Youji runs out to draw fire away from the rest of us.//  
  
Youji having to kill his former fiancee...  
  
//Bullets fly by his head, the strange cowboy hat still in place. "...that no one wants..."//  
  
Youji fighting Rouhi and Richard as I storm in...  
  
//"...that no one cares about."//  
  
Youji looking up at me as I cradle his dying body in my arms, telling me that he didn't mean for any of this to happen, that he was afraid to tell us about his past, that he was sorry for existing...  
  
//Youji looks up from his decoy duty to see the burgundy-haired version of me fighting some guy with my familiar katana. "Who's no leader..."//  
  
Youji in the hospital, recovering from his wounds...  
  
//"No teammate..."//  
  
Youji having to get close to that Michelle-woman and then having to kill her...  
  
//"No brother..."//  
  
Youji having to kill the insane teacher...  
  
//"No friend..."//  
  
The new version of Weiß completely rejecting Youji, pushing him aside and negating his problems.   
  
//He darts out as a laser sight targets on my back, knocking me out of the way, and taking the bullet for me.//  
  
I can't help but to lose consciousness.  
  
------------------------  
  
I come to with a groan before scanning the area I'm in. Apparently they found a cot, put me on it, and left me in the same room with the tape player. This is happening far too often for my tastes. With a sigh, I think back to everything I saw while the tape was playing. So that's it, huh? Youji's the fated martyr of Weiß and that's all there is to it? Fate cannot be that cruel! We all have happy memories, every one of us, even those with the shittiest lives. But Youji...any pleasant memories he has are violently overshadowed by the tragic events of his past.   
  
A knock at the door interrupts my rage. "Abyssinian?" Manx asks as the door creaks open.   
  
I answer with an unhappy 'hn'.   
  
"Did you find anything?" She asks, fidgeting with the hem of her business skirt.   
  
Unbidden, a scowl forms on my face and the glare I'd been giving her intensifies to the point where she actually backs away. "You want to know what I found?" I growl out, my face contorting into some inhuman monster's. "Youji's going to die no matter what we do. Whether we save him now or not, he'll die."  
  
Manx winces, then manages to muster up enough courage to look back up at me. "Aya," she starts, using my chosen first name for once, "of course he'll die; everyone does. It's a part of life that everyone must accept. What matters is if he dies surrounded by the people that he loves or if he dies in agony, surrounded by people that seek to do him harm."   
  
I have to fight back the urge to sigh. "That's not what I'm talking about." I snap at her, angry with this entire situation. "No matter what we do, he'll die an agonizing death, either surrounded by enemies or giving his life for people that don't seem to notice him." The pointed glare that I give her leaves her knowing exactly who I mean.  
  
She looks downward, also distressed by the predicament that we've found ourselves in.   
  
"I hope Kritiker will be happy." I spit out, bitter and inconsolable. "You found your perfect martyr."  
  
Her eyes meet mine as she gives me a look that's supposed to remind me of just who I'm speaking with.   
  
"Tell me...will his death atone for your sins? Will his sacrifice miraculously make everything better?" I'm cut off by the slap of her hand against my face and the visions that follow.   
  
I see us all at the memorial service Kritiker will hold for Youji. We're all normal again, Omi with his blonde hair and blue eyes, Ken with his clueless expression, and me with my bright red hair and eartails. Manx and Birman are stoic while Omi's loud sobs resonate around them. Then I see Manx as she opens the door to what I assume to be her apartment. She stumbles in, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Her keys miss the table that she meant to drop them on, but this goes unnoticed. Instead, she lets out a piercing wail and grabs her hair, ripping at it before running headlong into a bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed and sobbing uncontrollably.   
  
"Abyssinian?" She inquires sharply, still irked by my comment.   
  
I look up at her, forcing myself to remain calm and remember that as much as she'd have us believe otherwise, she is indeed human. "Did your analysts find anything?" I ask, my voice even and emotionless.   
  
"No." She replies, apparently forgiving me enough for her to sit down on the nearby chair.   
  
I stand up, forgoing my orders to stay here. "Then I'm going to look for him myself." I announce as I grab my katana that's propped up near the desk.   
  
She doesn't stop me this time.  
  
===================  
  
A/N: Okay, this was written nearly a year ago. (Wow...it's been that long!) Stupid college.  
  
Sorry about the Glühen parts. I've never seen the series, so I'm not sure the information's correct. I tried to read a bunch of summaries, but oh well. If something's inaccurate, just let me know (preferably by email) and I'll fix it.   
  
Also, sorry about all the psychology crap. *shrugs* 


End file.
